She might be having some weird thoughts about him, but he certainly wasn’t having them about her.
She could only hope that the blonde had vacated before Faith’s arrival.
Why did the thought of seeing her here make Faith feel sick? She couldn’t answer that question.
She didn’t evenknowthe guy. And she had never been jealous of anyone or anything in her life. Okay, maybe vague twinges of jealousy that her brothers had found people to love. Or that Hayley had a husband who loved her. That Mia had found someone. And the fact that Mia’s someone was Faith’s brother made the whole thing a bit inaccessible to her.
But those feelings were more like...envy. This was different. This felt like a nasty little monster on her back that had no right to be there.
She steeled herself, and knocked on the door. And waited.
When the door swung open, it seemed to grab hold of her stomach and pull it along. An intense, sweeping sensation rode through her.
There he was.
Today, he’d traded in the black T-shirt and hat from the last couple of days for white ones.
The whole look was...beautiful and nearly absurd. Because he wasnota white knight, far from it. And she wasn’t innocent enough to think that he was.
But there was something about the way the light color caught hold of those blue eyes and reflected the color even brighter that seemed to steal every thought from her head. Every thought but one.
Beautiful.
She was plain. And this man wasbeautiful.
Oh, not pretty. Scars marred his face and a hard line went through his chin, keeping him from being symmetrical. Another one slashed his top lip. And even then, the angles on his face were far too sharp to be anything so insipid as pretty.
Beautiful.
“Come on in,” he said, stepping away from the door.
She didn’t know why, but she had expected a little more conversation on the porch. Maybe to give her some time to catch her breath. Sadly, he didn’t give it to her. So she found herself following his instructions and walking into the dimly lit entry.
“It’s not that great,” he said of his surroundings, lifting a shoulder.
“It’s cozy,” she said.
“Yeah, I’m kind of over cozy. But the view is good.”
“I can’t say that I blame you,” she said, following his lead and making her way into the living area, which was open. The point from the house’s A-frame gave height to the ceiling, and the vast windows lit the entire space. The furniture was placed at the center of the room, with a hefty amount of space all around. “That must’ve been really difficult.”
“Are you going to try to absorb details about my taste by asking about my personal life? Because I have to tell you, my aesthetic runs counter to where I’ve spent the last five years.”
“I understand that. And no, it wasn’t a leading question. I was just...commenting.”
“They started the investigation into my wife’s disappearance when you were about eighteen,” he said. “And while you were in school I was on house arrest, on trial. Then I spent time behind bars. In that time, you started your business and... Here you are.”
“A lot can happen in five years.”
“It sure can. Or a hell of a lot of nothing can happen. That’s the worst part. Life in a jail cell is monotonous. Things don’t change. An exciting day is probably not a good thing. Because it usually means you got stabbed.”
“Did you ever get—” her stomach tightened “—stabbed?”
He chuckled, then lifted up his white T-shirt, exposing a broad expanse of tan skin. Her brain processed things in snatches. Another tattoo. A bird, stretched across his side, and then the shifting and bunching of well-defined muscles. Followed by her registering that there was a sprinkling of golden hair across that skin. And then, her eye fell to the raised, ugly scar that was just above the tattooed bird’s wing.
“Once,” he said.
He pushed his shirt back down, and Faith shifted uncomfortably, trying to settle the feeling that the bird had peeled itself right off his skin and somehow ended up in her stomach, fluttering and struggling for freedom.
